Slim Jim and the Lotto Girl
by kitkat681
Summary: A choice between entering a sex shop or a 7-Eleven sends shy and quiet Edward Cullen's world into complete disarray and earns him the nick name 'Slim Jim'. How will his life ever be the same after he meets his Lotto Girl? Hilarity and ridiculousness all rolled into one sweet love story. Rated M for...you know.
1. Chapter 1

**Slim Jim and the Lotto Girl**

**Chapter 1**

"Dude, can you go run next door and see if they have a plunger? The shit I just took is epic and there ain't no way it's gonna flush without some assistance."

I stifled a gag as I walked away from the thankfully closed employee bathroom and out onto the sales floor. The second my loafers hit the worn gray carpet and the bright lights reflected off my shiny black shoes, my palms started to sweat and my glasses slipped down my nose. I hated dealing with the public. I was a repair technician for a reason. My lack of social skills and awkward appearance were better suited to the back room, not out amongst the living. But if my fellow co-workers were ever going to be able to use the bathroom again, I needed to find a plunger.

I sidled up next to the counter, keeping my shoulders up close to my ears in an attempt to hide. My manager, Jasper, was behind the register, his long dreadlocks tucked back into a thick pink elastic scrunchie. I stared at his hair accessory for a moment, wondering where he might have possibly acquired such an outdated fashion ornament.

_Wouldn't an elastic band be much more appropriate?_

"What are you doing out of the cave, Edward?" he asked loudly, his comment startling me as he ignored the older woman who was standing at the counter in front of him. She held a ridiculously old cell phone in her hand, and I could only hope she was at the store to upgrade her decrepit device.

"Emmett had an issue and I need to see if they have a plunger at the 7-Eleven," I said, swallowing down the anxiety I always felt when speaking in public.

"You know, a bit of castor oil will help make your movements much less sturdy. I use a metal coat hanger to break apart the ones that get stuck," the customer said, her voice ringing loudly in the otherwise empty store.

"Um, thanks for that very helpful information," Jasper choked out between stifled guffaws, but she was oblivious to his laughter.

Ducking out the front door, I shoved my hands into the pockets of my gray slacks. Our Radio Shack was an older one, situated in the middle of a strip mall right between a Condom Galore and a 7-Eleven. I wasn't sure where Emmett had wanted me to search, but there was no way in hell I was going into the condom shop. Just imagining the amount of germs lingering on the door handle made me nauseous. The 7-Eleven was my only choice.

The bell above the glass door rang loudly as I pushed it open, making me cringe. _Nothing like having your entrance announced to all and sundry._ I wished I could have just found what I needed in the aisles, but after a cursory glance, I realized they didn't sell such an obscure item. I was going to have to ask the clerk if they had one.

I took a moment to ready myself, standing behind a rack of sugar free gum. Deep breaths and positive affirmations only did so much to calm my racing heart, but I couldn't wait any longer. Heaven only knew what Emmett might have been doing in the bathroom, and it was my day to clean it before closing up for the night. I straightened my shoulders and pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose as I started walking confidently toward the counter. Everything would have been fine had my elbow not caught the edge of a gum display in the middle of the aisle. Every pack of sugar-free gum went careening toward the floor, scattering wildly across the grimy tile.

"What the fuck?"

I dove to my knees quickly, my movements sending a rack behind me to the floor as well. My hands trembled as I swept the packs into a pile. I could hear the heavy clomp of feet as the obviously irate cashier approached, but was too embarrassed to look up.

"I'm so sorry," I mumbled when steel-tipped boots came into my view. The shiny toe of one black leather boot tapped on the floor.

"What the hell did you do, Slim Jim?"

Looking up from the mess, I followed the slightly scary boots up past calves covered in fishnet stockings. A black leather garter belt peeked out from beneath the hem of her too-short plaid skirt. The requisite orange 7-Eleven uniform shirt she was wearing was tied off just underneath her breasts, leaving a tempting swath of skin showing. Between her two rounded, mostly-exposed breasts, hung a vial of some red substance on a heavy silver chain. Her pale skin and delicate features were hidden behind heavy crimson lipstick and black-as-night eye makeup. What was probably thick and shiny mahogany hair was torturously maneuvered into a mass of braids that wrapped all around her head. Piercings ran up both her tiny ears, in her lip and through her nose.

In short, she was at once the most beautiful and frightening woman I'd ever seen.

"I asked you a question, Slim," she said with a smirk, the movement causing the thick hoop in her lip to sway.

"My name is Edward," I replied automatically. I had no idea why she was calling me the same name as a faux-meat product, but I didn't like it. Her smirk turned into a full-blown smile at my words.

"Edward? That is just perfect," she chuckled as she bent down next to me. Her hand slid through the space between us, creeping ever closer to the intimate area between my thighs. Her knuckles brushed against the fly of my jeans as her fingers closed around an object beneath my leg. I bit my lip as my penis hardened.

"This was why I called you, Slim Jim, Slim," she cooed, fluttering mascara-caked eyelashes at me. She raised her hand and held a plastic wrapped tube of meat in my face. Apparently I'd destroyed the Slim Jim display as well. "Although, judging from the bulge in those awesome Dockers, I should have snagged one of the Monster Sticks instead."

Her words and the phantom feel of her fingers against my flesh was too much. With a strangled grunt, I closed my eyes as waves of pleasure surged through me. By the time the last stream of semen had escaped into my underpants, I was completely and thoroughly mortified. With my eyes still closed, I slowly pushed to my feet, keeping my hands carefully in front of my now-damp fly.

"I apologize for the mess. If you'll excuse me, I believe I have suffered enough indignities to last me for quite a while," I mumbled. I started to turn around; hoping I might be able to find the exit without further delay, but her hands on my thighs stopped me.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean…well, I _did _mean to, but I didn't mean-" she rambled, her now-contrite tone forcing me to open my eyes. She was still on her knees on the floor, leaving her right at eye level with my soggy crotch.

"It's fine. I really should go, though," I said quietly, praying I could make it out of the store before the gooey mess in my pants started to slide down my leg.

"Wait! What did you come in for?" she asked, pushing to her feet, her heavy boots clomping after me. I stopped with my hand on the door.

"One of my co-workers plugged up the toilet. I was coming to inquire if you had a plunger we could borrow."

"Oh…my…God! That is epic!" she squealed, her husky laughter making my spent penis twitch in my wet briefs.

"Yes," I sighed as I pushed the door open, glaring at the bells as they signaled my departure. "It is never a dull moment." Between my clumsiness and the embarrassment of having prematurely ejaculating into my pants, I could almost guarantee I'd never be caught dead in that 7-Eleven again.

* * *

**A/N: WHAT IS THIS? Seriously? Kitkat-you've been gone for almost a year! What's up?**

**This is what's up. I'm about 60k words away from posting 1 million words on ff. So I've decided to resurrect a plot bunny that has been sitting on my laptop since December. I only have four chapters finished so I have no idea where this is going to go or how often I will be updating but it will most likely be weekly. **

**MWAH!**

**KK**


	2. Chapter 2

**Slim Jim and the Lotto Girl**

**Chapter Two**

"The fuck, Edward? I had to scoop that shit out of the bowl and into a bucket since your stupid, dysfunctional ass never came back with the damn plunger."

I cringed in my fancy lumbar-supported seat as Emmett loomed over me. After the 7-Eleven incident, I'd sent Jasper a text and all but sprinted back to my apartment. Thankfully I only lived a few blocks from work. I'd arrived home, thrilled to discover my briefs had managed to contain most of the mess. I knew I would have to deal with Emmett's wrath, but at the time, the only thing I could think of was getting into the shower and washing away the semen residue.

"Now Emmett, I really don't think that language is going to help us resolve this situation," Carlisle said with a sigh as he settled into the chair beside me. He was the manager in charge of our region, and took his position very seriously. Dressed in pleated khakis and a dark blue blazer, he looked like he'd just stepped out of a JC Penney's catalogue. Jasper hid a laugh behind his hand as he propped his shoulder against the wall. It was Saturday morning and we were scheduled to open in an hour. I had a million repairs waiting for me and I knew there would be more coming as soon as we unlocked the doors, but Carlisle refused to let us leave the break room until we were one happy, cohesive unit again.

"What the fuck do you want me to say, Carlisle? Fuckwad over there deserted me in my time of need," Emmett growled, plopping his ass down in the chair closest to the door. Jasper pushed off the wall and walked over to the table.

"Emmett, is it Edward's fault your disgusting ass clogged up the toilet? No, it's not. I suggest you try and schedule your…private time for when you're at home from now on," Jasper snapped. Emmett's oversized fist pounded down on the flimsy table.

"Do you think I _like _having to unload in the middle of the day? I have a sensitive sphincter. I can't hold it when the turtle head starts to peek," Emmett admitted.

"Sweet Jesus in heaven, please stop talking," I mumbled. "I will do my best to never leave you without the proper toilet-unclogging equipment ever again."

"Good, now that we've settled that, we can discuss sales for the upcoming holiday season," Carlisle said happily as he pulled out a thick folder. We all groaned as he started talking about Black Friday and the key time to decorating the store for the season. Of course he didn't care it was July.

I sighed in relief when he finally released us five minutes before the doors opened.

"Edward, a moment?" I huffed as I sat back down and watched Emmett and Jasper head out into the store. Carlisle scooted his chair closer to mine and folded his hands on top of the table. "How are things going? You seem slightly distracted today."

I stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out what I could say.

_Well, I freaked out and came in my pants yesterday like a fourteen-year-old boy in front of a girl who is way out of my league._

I think not.

"Things are fine, Carlisle." He squinted at me, his bright blue eyes seeming to sift through the bullshit in my words.

"You need to start being a man, Edward. I know you're awkward and uncomfortable in your skin, but you really are a very talented and interesting person. If you worked on your appearance and how you interact with people a bit more, I really think you'd have a much more fulfilling life. I mean…do you really want to be a virgin forever?"

"Shhh," I hissed, leaning forward toward him. "I told you that in confidence."

"Irregardless," he continued, waving away my objection like an annoying fly. "You need someone to help guide you. It just so happens that I've just started a side business as a life coach. I'd be happy to take you on as a client."

I stared at him, trying to decide if he was being facetious. Didn't he know irregardless wasn't a word? The honest and hopeful look on his face led me to believe he was indeed trying to help me, poor grammar and his lack of knowledge as to double negatives notwithstanding. Maybe having someone else responsible for my decisions might be better. Lord knew I wasn't doing a good job of things on my own.

"Okay, Carlisle," I relented, trying not to be too frightened of the gleeful look in his eyes.

"The only thing I ask is that you always tell me the truth and follow my instructions no matter how uncomfortable they might make you feel," he ordered, his words making my testicles ascend into my body. Before I could open my mouth and tell him I'd changed my mind, he stood and clapped me on the shoulder.

"Now, tell me exactly what happened yesterday over at the 7-Eleven."

_Ugh._

*()*()*

My feet dragged as I walked through the front of the store. After spilling the entire embarrassing tale of the previous day's events to Carlisle, he sat brooding for a moment before he declared I needed to try and make a better first impression.

"Oh, because ejaculating into my briefs wasn't bad enough? What should I do this time, vomit on her?" Ignoring my outburst, he went on to give me a detailed, play-by-play of exactly what I should say and how I should act.

"What should I buy?" I asked, feeling like I might indeed lose my lunch all over the floor. Carlisle's plan was for me to purchase something and try to chitchat with the cashier.

"I don't know, definitely not Slim Jims," he said, smothering a laugh. He shoved me out the door and told me to be the master of my fate.

_Master of my fate? More like master of disaster._

I pushed open the door cautiously, making sure I kept my arms and legs tight to my sides so as not to accidently wreck the place again. The bells chimed above me as my eyes darted around the store. I glanced up toward the front of the store, but I couldn't see her. That didn't mean she wasn't there, though. With my heart beating painfully in my chest, I ventured over to the snack aisle, looking for something innocuous to purchase. Everything I found seemed to have some sexual undertone. The Funions looked like little open mouths, lewdly waiting for something to be shoved into them. The potato chips weren't much better; they were called Lays for God's sake. And the cheetah on the Cheetos bag looked ready to pounce on the next person who walked by.

No…snack food was out.

I knew the health and personal care aisle would be pointless. Condoms were not an item to conduct small talk over. With my luck, I'd end up grabbing a box of feminine hygiene products instead. Of course after walking around yesterday with semen chafing my sensitive inner thighs, I realized some body powder might be a good purchase. That might not be too awkward. People use that for many different things. Perhaps she'd think I was a swimmer and need to wax my body hair to improve my time. Or I could be auditioning for Playgirl and they said I'd be a contender if I lost a bit of my man fuzz. That might be a good opener for casual conversation. Gah…who knew making a purchase would be so hard?

Realizing the most harmless items would be close to the register; I moved toward the counter and came face to face with…her.

"Hello, Slim," she cooed.

And with those two words, I forgot everything Carlisle had taught me.

* * *

**A/N: Hello again! So anyone who knows anything about me will not be surprised by this update coming so fast after the last. When I have a chapter already written and sitting on my laptop, I can't NOT post it. I shall endeavor to hold back though so you won't have to wait for updates. **

**I seriously teared up reading your reviews. I didn't realize how many of you still had my lame ass on alert. I love each and every one of you.**

**MWAH!**

**KK **


	3. Chapter 3

**Slim Jim and the Lotto Girl**

**Chapter Three**

"Hello," I murmured, trying not to stare at her outfit. I thought she had been dressed inappropriately the previous day, but today's choice of ensemble made that plaid skirt look like a nun's habit. She had on another skirt, this time made of black leather. Her flame-orange shirt looked like she'd attacked it with scissors, and the ragged hem allowed the bottom of her black bra to show. There were no stockings covering her pale, firm legs, and on her feet were the most arousing shoes I'd ever seen. A little circle was cut out of the toe, allowing just a peek of her delicate digits to show, a teasing glimpse of a usually boring body part.

How in the hell was I supposed to be articulate and confident when I was seconds away from coming in my pants…again?

"You look like you've recovered from your, er, predicament," she teased, sucking one full, crimson-stained lip into her sinful mouth. I cleared my throat and tried to remember what Carlisle had said about talking to women. Fake it until you make it, or something like that.

"Yes, well, I often find fake meat products to be overwhelming arousing." The moment I finished speaking, I knew I had messed up. Her expression went from teasing to confused. This is what I get for trying to be humorous. "Er, to that end I mean, shafts of meat and all…lots of spicy beef links."

For the love of God, someone stop me!

"Oh I see," she said, leaning forward and winking at me slyly. "You like cock."

"What! No! I mean I'm quite fond of my own, but other ones…attached to other men. No, just no," I rambled, the thought of getting anywhere near another man's nether regions making me slightly nauseous.

"Oh! Well what the fuck were you just talking about? Shafts of meat? Are you simple? Did you come here on a short bus?" she asked, her beautifully sculpted brows pulling into a frown.

"Simple? I don't…what do you mean by that? I graduated third in my class from Seattle Community College," I preened, standing just a bit taller. She smiled in a way that made my stomach flutter.

"You are too cute, you know that? So if you aren't here to buy a meat shaft, why the hell are you wandering around my store? Did your coworker drop another epic dump in the shitter?" she questioned, turning away from me and heading around behind the counter. I was momentarily mesmerized by the sway of her behind as she moved. Like a metronome. Tick…tock. Tick…tock.

"Slim?" I jolted out of my stupor and looked up at her seemingly all-knowing eyes.

"Um, I need..." I hesitated, torn between all of the items displayed behind her. Cigarettes, lighters, little tins of fruit flavored chewing tobacco…ugh, I didn't need or want any of those things. She already thought I was mentally handicapped, I didn't need her to think I was a disgusting nicotine addict. Finally my eyes landed on something that might actually be useful. "A lottery ticket."

"A lottery ticket? Sure, what kind do you want? I've got Powerball, Mega Millions, Hit 5 and Lotto," she recited, turning and waving her hand at the machine behind her.

"Um…do I pick my own numbers?" I asked, feeling a bit of the confidence I'd regained, slipping away like snot through a cheap tissue. My IQ might be close to genius level, but there were still some things I was completely confused by.

"You can, or you can let fate guide you," she said as she leaned forward, propping her elbows on the counter. Her breasts pushed together like two delicious marshmallows. With my eyes locked on her plump pillows of passion, I said the first numbers that came to mind.

"Nine, thirteen, six, twenty, seven and thirty-two."

She stepped back suddenly, her arms dropping to her sides.

"What?" I asked quickly, worried I had broken some unwritten lottery rule. Were you supposed to go in ascending numerical order?

"Why did you pick those numbers?" she asked, turning away from me and punching the keys on the lottery machine.

"I don't know. The six and twenty are my birthday, but other than that, they just came to me," I said, nervously raking my hand through my hair. For some reason, the pinky on my right hand never laid flat, so I'm sure the motion looked like I was trying to claw my brains out.

There really was something wrong with me.

"Just wondering," she mumbled as she handed me a little white ticket. "Here you go. Will I see you tomorrow?

"Um…why?" I questioned, sliding the ticket into my Velcro wallet, right behind my license for safe keeping.

"Well, since there ain't no chance in hell you're going to win, I thought maybe you'd be back to get another ticket."

Huh.

"You're probably right. The odds are one in 175,711,535." The only sound in the store was the hum of the fluorescent lights overhead and the churn of the slurpee machine. The object of my obsession was staring at me, mouth hanging open far enough that I could see her uvula. "Um, so I'll just…go."

I somehow managed to get to the door without running into anything, an impressive feat.

"Hey Slim?" I turned around with my hand on the door and met her eyes across the store. She smiled and I felt my traitorous penis twitch inside my new industrial briefs. "My name is Bella."

Feeling brave, I smiled back.

"Nah, you're Lotto Girl." The sound of her laughter followed me all the way back to Radio Shack and the slight swagger in my step had nothing to do with my overly tight underwear.

*()*()*

"What the fuck took you so long? I thought you just ran over there for some Imodium to stop your lightning squirts," Emmett barked as soon as I pushed through the door. Some of the high I felt after leaving Lotto Girl, aka, Bella, evaporated like sweat off a bald guys head at Emmett's crude words.

"I do not have any stomach issues. I just needed to get a lottery ticket," I said, defending myself. Emmett shook his head and looked at me.

"Wow, I didn't know they sold balls over there. You go, Weirdward." I bristled at his insinuation but then realized he was complimenting me. Apparently I did acquire some balls. Now I just needed to figure out how the hell to use them.

* * *

**A/N: Wow! You guys! Two chapters and only two away from 150 reviews. I'm awed and overwhelmed at your words! Seriously! **

**I'm still working on chapter five...ugh...writers block! Who know I'd have trouble writing a self-love scene *wink wink* but I figured I'd give you this now to try and push me forward!**

**Did you know I'm honored to be collaborating with Bornonhalloween and Shellshock81? We're called threehotpotatoes. We write 100 word drabbles and pass the chapters back and forth to each other. Right now we're writing "Supercliche: Manhood of Steel" a superhero parody. It's epic!**

**MWAH!**

**KK**


	4. Chapter 4

**Slim Jim and the Lotto Girl**

**Chapter Four**

"You got her to laugh, which is great, but now we need to make sure she sees you as date material and not just as a friend," Carlisle said as he handed me a container of fried rice. We were huddled around the table in the break room, long after closing. After hearing how successful my interaction with Lotto Girl had been, he wanted to capitalize on the victory. "Did you get any sex vibes from her?"

I watched as he shoveled a forkful of lo mein into his mouth. His usually perfect hair was a wild wave of blond around his head and his dark blue polo shirt was unbuttoned and askew.

"Are you okay, Carlisle? You seem a bit…off tonight," I mumbled, slipping the straw floating in my can of Mellow Yellow between my lips. He looked up at me and I noticed his pupils looked alarmingly large.

"Yeah, it's nothing. My doc switched my meds, so I'm self-medicating to help with the withdrawal symptoms," he said, spitting half-chewed Chinese food across the surface of the table. I covertly wiped it up and glared up at him.

"What does self-medicating entail?"

"Well, it starts with me calling my dealer and ends with the fucking munchies. You can figure out the shit in between," he said with a wink. I paused with my fork halfway to my mouth.

"Are you trying to tell me you're _high_?" I whispered, leaning closer in case Emmett or Jasper were still around. He nodded like a bobble head doll, his blond locks falling across his forehead with the motion. I let my plastic fork fall to the table and stared at the man I was paying to be my life coach.

"Dude, have you tried this lo mein? It is epic!" he moaned, taking another huge bite.

What the hell had I gotten myself into?

"Are you sure I should go back so soon?" I whispered as Carlisle led the way across the parking lot. After he finished the four quarts of food we'd ordered, he said he had a hankering for a slurpee.

"Yes! You gotta go for it. You never know when some other twenty-nine year-old virgin might step in and steal the skank away," he hissed excitedly. His grip on my arm was almost painful, but I realized my support was the only thing keeping him upright.

"Carlisle," I sighed, but he spun around and put his greasy finger over my lips.

"Do you hear that?" He cocked his head to the side. I quieted my breathing, but didn't hear a thing. "I think the worms in my ear are trying to talk to me."

"I think it might be time to get you to bed," I mumbled, attempting to steer him back toward his car. I didn't own a car, but I figured I could get his address off his license and drive him home. Hopefully he would be sober in the morning and could drive me back.

"Oh see, I knew you were a fudge packer."

I turned around at the sound of Lotto Girl's voice, accidentally sending Carlisle to the ground when he didn't have my arm to hold him up. He grunted in pain and then started laughing hysterically.

"The worms! They want me to sing to them!"

I ignored him as I looked across the asphalt to where she stood, her curvy body leaning against a beat-up Volvo.

"I am not an, er, fudge packer. This is my regional manager. He had a rough night and I was just trying to get him home before he got himself in trouble," I said, taking a deep breath when she pushed away from her car and glided over toward me. Her legs weren't long, but the added height from her heels helped to exaggerate the length of her stride.

"You're such a good guy, aren't you, Slim?" she cooed as she ran her nails across my jaw, sending shivers down my spine.

"I am what I am," I said simply. With the man in charge of my life talking to the invisible worms in his ear, I was flying blind. Was I supposed to act like an asshole? Did girls like that? She took a step back and sighed.

"You better get him home. He's tripping balls." She walked away without another word and I was left with a hard on and a boss who was apparently tripping balls…whatever that meant.

I squinted against the bright sun the next morning, stretching out as much as Carlisle's narrow couch would allow. His apartment had been easy enough to find the night before, but getting him inside and into bed had been a challenge. He was dead weight by the time we made it across town, still talking about singing worms and cursing his doctor for ever taking him off his meds. I was still unclear as to what medication he was talking about.

Having no idea if he lived with anyone, I opened his door cautiously, but the empty beer bottles and discarded pizza boxes in the kitchen made it clear he lived alone. His bed was unmade and I didn't bother covering him up after I tossed him onto the mattress. I wandered around his place for a bit before I crashed on the couch, but I hadn't learned anything about him I didn't already know from his assorted knickknacks.

I sat up and ran my hand through my hair. It was Sunday, and I thankfully had the day off. Glancing around, I spotted the time on the microwave and grimaced. Only eight. I knew after the night he'd had, Carlisle probably wouldn't be up for at least a few more hours. Maybe I could call a cab.

"Good morning!"

I jumped and turned around at the sound of the cheerful voice behind me. Standing in the now-open front door was a beautiful woman dressed to the nines. A black and white polka dot sundress wrapped around her, showing off her toned arms and long legs. Her caramel colored hair was piled in a knot atop her head and her red shoes added just enough excitement to her overall look. As soon as I was finished cataloguing her appearance, I decided I should just cut off my penis and be done with it.

"Are you a friend of Cars?" she inquired, setting her black bag down on the kitchen table. The way she took ownership of the entire place made me realize she'd been a regular guest.

"We work together," I mumbled, rubbing my face to wipe away any renegade drool. My hair was a lost cause, so I didn't even bother.

"Well, we'd be happy to drop you off on our way to church. He should be up any minute," she said cheerfully. "CAR!"

I looked around just in time to catch Carlisle sprinting buck ass naked from his bedroom, his flaccid penis flopping against his thigh lewdly.

"Esme! I forgot you were coming," he announced, completely ignoring his nudity. I looked anywhere but at his exposed genitalia.

"For God's sake, Car, put some pants on," Esme sighed, apparently used to his scatterbrained behavior. I wish I had been privy to it before I gave him a hundred bucks and let him take control of my life.

* * *

**A/N: HI! So Carlisle is SOO much fun to write! And a clueless but smart Edward is even more enjoyable. But reading your reaction to my words is the best. **

**See you soon!  
MWAH!**

**KK**


	5. Chapter 5

**Slim Jim and the Lotto Girl**

**Chapter Five**

"So, how does it feel now that you've seen my junk? Has our friendship gone to the next level?"

I turned in my seat and looked back at Carlisle. He was sitting in the backseat of Esme's car, a mustard yellow 1984 Ford Fairlane. The damn thing was hideous, and I was worried I might get a disease just from sitting in it. Esme was concentrating on the road, which I was thankful for since the seatbelts were broken. I ignored Carlisle's question and watched as he flicked a lighter and gently set the end of a white hand-rolled cigarette aflame.

"Car, do you have to light up in here?" Esme asked as she removed one hand from the wheel to wave in front of her face. When the motion proved ineffective, she reached for the crank to roll the window down.

"Esme, you know it is the only thing that helps with the withdrawal," he sighed dramatically before he put the joint into his mouth and took a deep breath, holding it forever before he exhaled with a barking cough. Carlisle smiled dreamily as he rubbed out the glowing end and shoved it in his shirt pocket. "Now…your obvious penis envy aside, how do you feel this morning?"

"I feel fine, Carlisle," I said, surprised that I actually meant it. I did feel fine. The interaction with Lotto Girl the night before should have sent my fragile confidence swirling down the toilet, but somewhere between the worms singing to Carlisle and the feel of her nails scraping across my jaw, I realized I might actually have a chance with her.

"Edward," Esme interrupted sweetly, placing her hand uncomfortably high up on my thigh. I shifted in the seat and shot a glance back toward Carlisle, praying he might help me out with his overly-affectionate girlfriend. From the dazed look on his face, I figured I was going to have to deal with the situation on my own. Perhaps this was all just a ruse on his part to try and force me out of my shell.

"Yes, Esme?" I replied, leaning toward the door so I was as far away from her as possible. I held my breath waiting for her response.

"Am I dropping you off at your house or would you like to come to church with us?"

There was no way I would sit through a church service with Esme's grabby hands and Carlisle stoned out of his mind. I politely declined and gave her directions to my apartment. When we arrived, I thanked both Esme and Carlisle as I closed the door and headed up to my apartment building.

"Hey, Edward!" Carlisle shouted through the open window. "Make sure you don't jerk off tonight. We'll want you all juiced up before you go in to see your girl tomorrow!"

I ducked my head down, wishing I could disappear. I could feel my cheeks flaming with color and knew without a doubt that at least a few of my neighbors had heard his recommendation.

"Why in the hell would you possibly think having me…er…juiced up would be better than having…um…an empty reservoir?" I hissed, moving a little closer to the vehicle in hopes that it might quiet his response.

"It's a proven fact that women can smell a man's pheromones when he's got a full load in his coin purse," he shouted, the weed apparently malfunctioning his ability to moderate the volume of his voice.

"And pheromones are important?" I asked stupidly. I had taken a few biology courses while pursuing my degree, but how the human body processed arousal wasn't something I was familiar with. Esme leaned across the seat and popped her head out.

"Pheromones are crucial, Edward. I can always tell when Carlisle hasn't spanked the monkey, especially when I'm ovulating."

_Very helpful, Esme._

"I'm telling you, man," Carlisle yelled as Esme pulled away from the curb, "don't beat your meat tonight."

As I watched their yellow car disappear down the road, I nearly laughed at how easy that task would be.

Or so I thought.

*()*()*

Two hours later, I found myself standing in a freezing cold shower, desperately willing my erection down.

It started innocently enough. I'd decided to make tacos for dinner, and grabbed a pair of perfectly ripe tomatoes off the counter to chop. The moment my fingers wrapped around the firm flesh of the fruit, the skin giving just slightly beneath the pressure, my penis twitched. I dropped the tomatoes and stepped back until I hit the wall behind me. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, but all I could see were Lotto Girl's luscious breasts in place of the tomatoes. I could almost feel the gentle weight of them in my palm, sense the give of her firm flesh under my fingertips.

Desperate for a distraction, I moved into the living room and booted up my laptop.

_"Oh yeah, fuck me harder."_

"Shit," I mumbled as I struggled to close the browser window. Apparently the last time I'd used my laptop was to engage in some self-love. Thankfully the actress on the screen was blond and her breasts were most obviously implants, so the image didn't remind me of Lotto Girl. I slammed the lid shut and placed my forehead down on the warm, plastic cover. A cold shower would help, right?

Morning couldn't come soon enough.

"Damn," Emmett chuckled as I walked through the employee door bright and early. "You look like shit."

"Thank you for that very astute observation," I mumbled, stifling a yawn. I'd only managed a few hours of sleep, thanks to copious amount of blood lodged in my penis. No matter what I had tried, my erection had not gone down. I was thankful for my overly-tight boxer briefs and too-small khaki pants, or else I'd still be pitching a tent.

"Rough night?" I glared at Emmett over the top of my glasses as I slipped my timecard through the reader.

"How about you just worry about yourself today?" Emmett smiled widely as he raised his hands.

"Sorry," he said, backing out toward the sales floor.

I took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on the repairs that were scheduled for pick-up, but my eyes kept straying toward the clock. Two more hours before Lotto Girl's shift started. The fact that I knew what time she came to work should have embarrassed me.

It didn't.

* * *

**A/N: Hello! Sorry for the delay. I went back to school and even though my classes are online, they are kicking my ass! Plus my oldest starts kindergarten on Wednesday, my triathlon is only 6 weeks away and I've started dating again and so far...it's been a bit wild. The cops were helpful at least.  
**

**I have a rule that I won't post the next chapter until the chapter after that is done. Chapter six is finished and I'm 200 words into chapter seven. Fingers crossed I can get another 1k words in before too long!**

**Thanks for sticking with me, even though I'm not doing review replies or throwing love at you like I should. Please know that I love each and every one of you...even the lurkers.**

**MWAH!**

**KK**


	6. Chapter 6

**Slim Jim and the Lotto Girl**

**Chapter Six**

"I'll be right back." Emmett didn't even look up from his phone as I walked past the sales desk on my way toward the door. Apparently my new attitude had given me more freedom in his eyes.

"Grab me a Butterfinger," he called as I pushed through the door. I waved without looking back, mentally calculating how much he would owe me when I returned.

The annoying bells jingled as I yanked open the door to the 7-Eleven, but I didn't cringe this time. I was excited they announced my arrival and was looking forward to seeing my Lotto Girl. Weaving past the wire rack holding novelty sunglasses, I headed toward the front counter. Though I may have looked confidant on the outside, the moment I saw her standing in front of the register, my heart started racing wildly.

"How's it hanging, Slim?"

"Slightly to the left and rigid at the moment," I sputtered, and then flushed scarlet, mortified that those words had left my mouth. My attempt at humor must have actually hit its mark, because Lotto Girl's face broke out into a brilliant smile. I walked up to the counter, pushing my hips against the glass front, trying to diminish said rigidity.

"You back for another ticket?" she asked as she leaned over the glass surface and stared up into my face. I was surprised at how I seemed to tower over her. In our previous interactions, I'd observed I only had a few inches of height on her. But today, I seemed like a giant next to her slight frame.

"As you predicted, I didn't not win with the ticket I purchased yesterday," I replied, setting my sweaty palms down on the counter, as close to hers as I dared.

"The next drawing isn't until Wednesday," she informed me as she slid her hands slightly closer to mine, her skin squeaking against the glass with the movement. I swallowed convulsively.

"Well then," I said, absurdly excited when my voice only wavered a little, "I'll have to come up with another reason to come see you every day."

"Oh, Slim," she whispered, her eyes achingly sad as they met mine, "you're going to break my heart."

"What? No I won't, I swear," I stammered, fear making my words harsh. My hands reached out to cover hers without even realizing it. She smiled as she tangled our fingers together on top of the counter. Her eyes were downcast, locked on our joined hands.

"You're not going to mean it, of course," she sighed. "It's just inevitable."

"Inevitability is a load of bullshit," I growled, leaning down so I could catch her gaze.

"I didn't think you knew any curse words," she chuckled, but her laughter was half-hearted.

"I know lots of curse words. In several different languages," I teased, trying to get a real smile from her. "Would you like to hear them?"

"Ah, Slim," she giggled, tightening her fingers on mine for a moment before she slipped her hands from my grip. "How about you save the multi-lingual cursing for our date."

"Our date?"

*()*()*

"I _told_ you the pheromones would work!" Carlisle's voice was loud through the phone and I pulled it away from my abused ear with a sigh.

"Yes, oh smart one, it seems you were correct," I conceded, "but that won't help me later tonight when I have to actually interact with her in public!"

"It's going to be fine," he soothed, "here's what you're going to do..." I could hear the hiss of a lighter in the background, and once more I regretted ever seeking advice from my drug-addled life coach.

*()*()*

Standing at the rear door of the 7-eleven, I took a deep breath and tugged at the hem of my new t-shirt. Carlisle had forced me to use my lunch hour to shop for a new outfit. Apparently, even _thinking_ about going on a date in my work clothes was a strike against me. I had no idea if he was keeping track of said strikes, but I was pretty sure I didn't want to find out. I was marched into an Abercrombie and Fitch, under protest, and forced to plunk down nearly $200 on a t-shirt, a pair of jeans and some uncomfortable boxer briefs. Why I couldn't just wear my industrial strength briefs was beyond me.

"Now make sure you keep eye contact to a minimum. Don't look at her face, look at her tits. Girls like it when you stare at their goods."

I jotted down Carlisle's advice in a little moleskin notebook, though I couldn't really believe a woman would rather me stare at her breasts instead of her expressive eyes.

"Don't offer to pay for her," he grunted as he flopped down in my chair and stacked his feet one over the other on top of my desk. I tried to hide my irritation as I pulled a stack of work orders from beneath his dirty shoes. "And no matter what, do _not_ try and kiss her."

"What if she makes a move toward engaging my lips with her?" I asked, even though I was almost certain that would never happen.

"You kiss her cheek," Carlisle sighed as he folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. I waited for more of an explanation, but the only thing I heard from my illustrious life coach were the deep bellows of his snoring.

Now—all on my own, I reached for the handle of the door with a confidence I didn't feel. Before my fingers could wrap around the metal latch, the door was yanked open, causing me to stumble forward. I put my hands out to stop my downward motion, only to have my fingers collide with Lotto Girls' barely contained breasts.

"Oh, merde!"

"What language was that, Slim?" Bella cooed as she placed her hands over mine. I could feel the rough texture of her lace bra beneath the thin cotton of her shirt.

"French," I whispered, too distracted by the perfect mounds of flesh in my palms to realize how inappropriate my actions were.

"Are you going to just hold my tits all night or are we going to get something to eat? Cause I'm fine either way, but I'd like to grab a Cliff bar if we're not gonna eat dinner."

* * *

**A/N: um...oops! Sorry for the delay. At least the reason for my delay is good news and not tragic. **

**You know how we always read about love at first sight and a whirlwind romance? **

**It does exist. **

**Exactly 25 days ago I had a blind date. Yesterday we put an offer in on a five bedroom house. He loves all of my girls as if they are his own. **

**So yeah...man of my dreams. **

**Forgive me for the lack of updates?**

**MWAH!**

**KK**


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